Old Glory froze last night
In a crumpled swath, and now
Lumbers solid, like a beast of burden,
Against the smilaxed porch roof
In Alabama’s (sort of) icy, windy, freezy,
And, oh, therein, is that heavenly lull,
That sweet second breakfast of
The bread of the Word.
The Word, unleashed from imperatives and carlines,
Says – and do I hear this? –
“For God so loved,
For God so loved,
For God so loved!”
God bless the ice that stilled the world,
So I can hear that God so loved!
Meditation on John 3:16